I was inept in swept streams, my dry hex crept but slept with wet dreams, I had met teams that let themes avail, my strong thoughts quail, so yes, hell prevails!, the story I would sell was glory only compelled to nail, "the all's well that ends well", given fails, a living gail gusts disgust, it blows dust cause I composed rust that blinds eyes and would advise stalled guides "Your calls can't adjust!", "Decant your grant and recant your trust!", my slant stands scant through my instant trance, a distant glance that enhanced me past the chance, to grow with a stance to the "slow dance" groove, running, putting my hands in pants that would pose bad moves, plus sand in my shoes so my grand plan ain't smooth, it's *******, stewed as I brewed new feuds to this dude, rude with this skewed interlude, set screams, had viewed me **** as I spewed wet dreams!